A Captain's Principles
by OPYKJ
Summary: What if it had been only a certain Captain's principles that would have gotten them home? AU, dark. Very delicate hint of J/C.
1. Chapter 1

What if only a captain's principles could have gotten them home? AU, dark. Very delicate hint of J/C.

I was very lucky to have Mrs Singing Violin as my beta for my second Voyager story. My greatest thanks for her keen eyes for illogical statements and deep knowledge of Voyager canon. What remains is my personal interpretation of what could have happened, in an AU. Comments welcome of course.

It took them less than three years to abandon all hope of getting back home.

The Accident, as they called it, happened just two months after Voyager was hurled into the Delta Quadrant by the Caretaker. It inflicted devastating damage to both crew and ship. Voyager limped to a godforsaken space station for spare parts and resources. On the edge of nowhere, it took them six weeks to repair the ship. It was stripped of some of its technology, including the EMH, as high tech was the sole trading currency. Tuvok had interjected, stating Starfleet protocols. He was told to accept the senior team's decision or leave the ship. The captain was not seeking his advice anymore. He stayed, silenced.

They left the station behind to crawl at warp 4 through a particularly empty part of space. Without medical expertise on board, the journey cost them more lives.

It took them a year to clear the barren area. Then, there was a succession of navigational errors due to sub-standard replacement sensors. After another two months of side trips, they ended up in a very busy corner of the Delta Quadrant. Failed negotiations for space routes followed as they tried to bully their way through too many territories. Lost battles added to the death toll, Kes and Vorik among the early casualties. Voyager's company continued to shrink as crew members disappeared during overdue shore leaves on seedy trade posts. With resources dwindling, nobody on the ship was keen on spending time man hunting.

After a year and a half, they finally got back on track, thanks to more compromises arranged by the Talaxian and approved by the captain. They used their skills and genetic material for trade this time. They did not have much else left to exchange. Only volunteers and disgruntled crew members were left behind as part of the exchanged goods, Voyager's pilot among them. Tom Paris had set up one betting ring too many. He had been lucky to be left on a planet with a breathable atmosphere after being almost kicked out of an airlock without a space suit.

The ship plunged further towards the galaxy's centre, along the space-time curve linking the two quadrants. The crew began to hear warnings of a massive territory stretching for hundreds of light years ahead. Millions of Borg cubes were lying straight across their path, waiting to turn them into ruthless and efficient drones.

After a tempestuous meeting of the Senior Staff, during which B'Elanna Torres hit the captain and got demoted to Crewman Third Class, the decision was taken to wait and see if a stronger species would take on the Borg for them. Like a fly banging against a window trying to reach the light on the other side, Voyager bounced around the perimeter of Borg territory for several months: overly cautious, never punching their way through potential breaches in the Borg frontline, motivated by their dread of assimilation.

Nobody challenged the Borg.

The crew could see no course across and too long a way around. The senior team would not commit to a decision, so there were lengthy ship-wide debates over whether or not to settle in the Delta Quadrant. The pro-settlement side consolidated its position over the multiple ballots. After the 6th poll, a delegation approached the senior staff to lobby them to follow the majority opinion: 75 in favour of settling down and 12 votes against looked like a clear-cut result.

Retracing its path, Voyager flew from system to system, its crew attempting to find a permanent base for themselves. They contacted one planetary government after another, asking for permanent settlement in exchange for their technical and combat expertise. However, renowned for their underhand tactics and dubious principles, their reputations preceded them. Voyager was refused docking rights time and time again. They finally bribed lowly-ranked border officials who had only enough influence to smuggle small groups. They ended up on separate planets, unable—or unwilling—to stick together as one crew. Tuvok, Kim, and Neelix were among the first group to disembark.

The ship touched down for the last time, on a pre-warp planet, the Prime Directive well and truly ignored with Earth out of reach. By then, only a handful of Voyager's crew members were left, led by their captain. Thirty-six months after being flung in the Delta Quadrant, Voyager's hope of going back home finally collapsed, its crew dispersed or dead, its legend never written.

"When did you realise we had given up?" asked Chakotay one evening, a cup of local tea in his hands. He could just see Voyager nestled in the valley below. The ship had long been gutted of all her components, except for her hull and landing gear. She still looked magnificent.

B'Elanna was sitting beside him, contemplating the star-studded night sky. This close to the galaxy centre, stars were as dense as pebbles on a beach.

"Soon after the Accident," she responded. She accepted his use of the collective pronoun.

Chakotay turned towards her, his face illuminated by the star lights. There was no need for a moon on this world. "But we continued towards Earth for more than two years after that. We didn't think about settling down for quite some time."

"With her gone, we sort of lost our bearings," she observed.

Chakotay snorted. "Our bearings? You mean Starfleet principles? Rules and codes of conduct? Remember when Tuvok tried to stop us from selling bits of Voyager's technology in the name of Starfleet protocols? We had the right to pull him down. We would have never survived if we had followed the Starfleet rule book. Even Harry realised that fast enough."

She sipped on her cup. She knew why Harry had seemed to quickly accept the new rules that governed Voyager after the Accident. Or more to the point, the lack of rules. Just like everyone else on the ship, he had had to adapt to a new leadership, a mere eight weeks into its ultimately failed journey back to the Alpha Quadrant. No wonder he had left as soon as he did. He had not wanted to have anything to do with the remaining Senior Officers now that returning to Earth was impossible.

B'Elanna studied her captain. She could feel his weariness. He was tired, greying on the sides, his face showing hard lines and a few faint scars here and there: a reminder of past battles, too many to recall. Not that much different from what she looked like.

"I know something, Chakotay. She was not following Starfleet principles because they were Starfleet. After all, she did take a few liberties at times, including destroying the array. She acted the way she did because it was the right thing to do. It was so ingrained in her that nothing could touch that, no matter what quadrant she was in."

She added, a sad tone in her voice. "We failed to see that, Chakotay. We thought we could just replace her with a new captain, change some rules, and everything would be okay. But we didn't grasp the potential consequences of our choices. As we reacted instinctively to one problem, we created the next crisis, and the one after that. We lost our way." _And half of the crew,_ she thought.

He did not seem to have heard her last words. "And what about Klingon principles? She died in a Jefferies tube for heaven's sake, trying to get the environmental controls back on line. Hardly a warrior's glorious death."

"What's your problem, Chakotay?" B'Elanna got up, now angry. "Trying to justify the decisions we took? Do you think we would have received a hero's welcome if we had managed to get back to the Alpha Quadrant all by ourselves? We would have been court-martialled and sent to a penal colony because of the way we'd acted in the past three years. Not because of our Maquis past, you know that. She was our captain for two months and we failed to understand what she was trying to do. To get us home while keeping to our principles. _Human _principles. To be proud of not only what we would achieve by getting back home, but how we conducted ourselves during that long journey."

"Why didn't you talk to me like that before?" Chakotay asked, intrigued.

The Engineer smiled ruefully, sitting back down, her anger already spent. "I tried. Several times. The last time I did, you sent me to scrub the manifolds with a toothbrush, remember?"

Chakotay remained silent for a while. "Do you think Voyager would have made it back to the Alpha Quadrant, if she had lived?" he asked wistfully, looking at the ship.

B'Elanna laughed softly. "I think that woman might have just brought us home." She cupped her hands around the distant powerless ship and moved them upwards like a bird. "I can see Voyager still racing towards the Alpha Quadrant with her as the captain and you as the second-in-command. It would have taken a long time, but, yes, I believe she would have gotten us all back."

They sat outside a while longer, reflecting on what they had lost. They had given up what they believed in and never made it home.

Chakotay stood up, still facing the abandoned ship. "You know the hardest thing of all, B'Elanna?". His voice broke. " I cannot remember Captain Janeway's face anymore."

The End.


	2. Chapter 2

I thought the story needed some follow up. Still AU, but much less dark and with a twist.

I was very lucky to have Mrs Singing Violin as my beta for the first chapter. This new chapter is unbetaed. All faults are mine, as they say.

/

She was tired and had a headache the size of a warp core pulsating behind her forehead. She felt like she had just sat through one of Tom Paris' picture show marathons, watching six 'what if' movies getting more and more depressing as the night went on. This last one was the worse of the whole lot.

She has died early in all of them: twice shot (lots of blood, for effect she guessed), one accident (painful but quick), two cases of lingering and rather nasty looking diseases, and one case of… Well, let's say it had been rather messy.

The novelty of her untimely demise had worn off by the third iteration, but it was the fate of the crew which saddened her the most. She could accept the ship getting blown up by overwhelming alien forces, or encountering spatial anomalies strong enough to tear it apart, but she had never anticipated a set of circumstances that would leave the crew so quickly scattered all over the Delta Quadrant, friends becoming enemies, dispirited and disillusioned. And not even trying that hard to reach home.

She put her hand up. "All right Q, I give up. I've had enough". She made a bee line to the replicator. It was going to be a long night. "Coffee, black".

She turned towards him, a steaming cup in her hands. Q was looking as chirpy as ever, sprawled on the couch of her ready room, wearing a Starfleet Admiral uniform with his usual panache. His smart look was slightly marred by a mountain of popcorn spilt over his stomach. Janeway wished she had his powers to make him go away.

"What were all these fictional tales about and more importantly, what do you want?".

"Kathryn, my dear Kathryn. And I thought we were having such a good time, just the two of us, smooching and…" Janeway gave him a death glare which had no such effect on him but stopped his rambling. "We were not smooching, Q. What do you want?"

He sat up, looking pensive, the popcorn gone, a glass of red wine in his hand. He patted the cushion beside him in an invitation for her to sit down. She demurred. He settled with what he hoped was an earnest look on his face.

"Kathryn, have you ever thought about the impact you are having on the Delta Quadrant?".

Janeway was taken by surprise at his change of tack. The question had some merit though. "I hope we are not having too much of an impact. The Prime Directive…"

"The Prime Directive. A very interesting concept, that PD of yours". He noticed that Janeway was stifling a yawn. "OK, I'll explain. You humans are so slow witted, it is hard for me to come down to your speed of thoughts."

The Captain did not rise to the bait and moved to settle on the couch near him. He felt rather pleased at her confidence in his good manners and refrained from showing any eagerness towards her. Then he frowned at the fact that she manifestly thought he was inoffensive. And then marvelled at how he had expertly been tricked into behaving exactly how Janeway wanted him to conduct himself: safe and harmless.

This captain was certainly different from Jean-Luc: more chutzpah, less rigid and definitely much better looking, but she was treating him like an unwelcome if slightly eccentric relative. Oh well, the night was young, and anyway he had a serious message to pass on tonight.

"As you know, we, the Q, are, in a way, in charge of this universe", he started to say with a flourish of hands. Janeway almost spilled her coffee and studied him with an incredulous look on her face. "You don't say, Q. A nice job you are doing".

"Well, that's the problem", he added, looking embarrassed. "Sometimes our actions end up having unwanted consequences". Her eyebrow lifted up. He ignored it. "We try to correct a problem, which from time to time lead to other problems which in turn, very occasionally of course, end up not quite the way we wanted. Starting from scratch again gets a bit boring, so we lose interest and things snowball from there. In short, we are omnipotent, not omniscient". He hated sounding so defensive in front of a lower life form, but he needed her insight.

"You are losing me, Q".

"Oh, come on. Even your Earthlings philosophers have been debating that paradox for centuries. What do they teach you at the Academy nowadays?". She noticed he had changed his clothing to a subdued and less aggravating long robe. He wanted something from Voyager very badly. Or from her.

"For various reasons that your species does not need to know, the Q continuum has an interest in making this particular galaxy less disorganised. We have been observing the Federation for the past few centuries and we are pleased with what it has accomplished. We would like something similar to happen in what you call the Delta Quadrant, and…".

Janeway interrupted him. She was getting an inkling of what he was talking about even if the real reasons were not clear. "You want Voyager to foster the creation of a federation of planets, based on the principles that nurtured it in the Alpha Quadrant. A tall order, even for the Q".

He smiled, rather happy with himself to have picked the right Captain. Picard would already have cast his Klingon bulldog at him at the first interlude. "Well, you can't pretend that Voyager has not had a good influence on this area of space. You have touched so many species already". He had forgotten their names but she would fill in the blanks. "However …", he lingered. She lifted another eyebrow. "However, have you noticed a pattern in the scenarios I showed you?".

'_There it was'_, she thought. '_These scenarios, as he calls them, they mean something to him. But what?'_

She was intrigued and uneasy. Something was telling her that she may not want to hear why he was so interested in Voyager. And the reasons of an omnipotent being were very likely to be extremely difficult to fight off.

He did not wait for her answer and went straight to the point. "You , Kathryn, die in each of them, and Voyager does not last long after that. If you die too early while stranded in the Delta Quadrant, the ship and its crew cease to exist as we know them. Even if your troops do not kill themselves doing something stupid, they end up abandoning your Federation's principles. Without Voyager's pacifying influence, the whole idea of a federation of planets here falls apart. This is not what we want".

She got up suddenly, feeling more and more concerned. "You are playing with me, Q. With us", moving her arm around to encompass the whole of Voyager. "You want us to stay in the Delta Quadrant for ever, doing your bidding. It is not fair." She looked at him, her blue eyes like steel. "Keep me here if you want, Q, but Voyager's crew deserves to go home. Let them go back and I'll help you create that federation of yours".

Ah, yes, the famous chink in her armour. Personal sacrifice. A strange notion which he did not quite understand himself, but it was so embedded in her. She was both the answer to his problem and the more likely cause of failure. That sacrificial trait was such a large part of who she was and why she was a great Captain, and hence why she would keep Voyager going, but it was also the issue: that she would sacrifice herself willingly for her crew meant that she was more than likely to die much too early, before these Federation representatives make their mark on the Delta Quadrant.

Q stood up and started pacing the room, talking with much arm thrown around. "I can't do that, Kathryn. Something to do with free will, etc.. Very boring, but indispensable I am afraid. That's the problem with omnipotence, I suppose. I need you not to die so soon and you have not been very useful so far in providing me with solutions".

Janeway was getting angry and tired and pretty well sick of this creature trampling all over her ready room. She went back to the replicator and tried a bit of irony as she got her second cup of coffee. "What do you mean? You are the one who is omnipotent. Do something about it then".

Suddenly, she looked at him, an insightful look on her face. "I am not real, am I? Otherwise why would you tell me all that. There is no free will if I know your intentions. I am in one of your scenarios. You are studying the real captain by quizzing me. Isn't it true?" She was standing just under his chin now, eyes blazing, and her index finger poking his chest. "And this has nothing to do with the Q continuum, has it? It is all about you. What for? To impress them?".

She stopped and took a step back, smirking at him. "No, not to impress them. You have been told to behave yourself, pacify the Delta Quadrant as a test of you, not of me'. She laughed and turned away, abandoning him to his misery.

Even as an avatar of a little insignificant mortal being, she was annoyingly right, on both counts. He erased her, leaving him alone in the simulated room.

He had failed. The Q continuum had given him an ultimatum: clean up the Delta Quadrant as proof of his good behaviour, or be banished. Another scenario bringing nothing. The Delta Quadrant would stay wild and uncontrollable for many more centuries and his head would roll.

He felt sorry for himself and sat down, his head between his hands. Maybe if he could mimic the broken tone of that large lump of a guy just at the end of the last Voyager's scenarios they had watched, the captain and him, maybe that would get him off the hook with the other Q. The big oaf had done a good impression of sounding heart broken.

Q 's head lifted up, eyes bright and a large smile showing. He was having an epiphany.

That chap was the solution he was after. Forget trying to convince the captain to stay alive. He should focus on that commander of hers, the one with the graffiti on the side of his face. These humans can be very protective of whom they love.

_I'll start by stranding the two of them on a lonely planet for a while. That should do the trick._

He clicked his fingers and everything disappeared.


End file.
